


Never Tickle a Sleeping Dove

by imnotokaywiththerunning



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019, Hogwarts Omens, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotokaywiththerunning/pseuds/imnotokaywiththerunning
Summary: Professor Anthony J. Crowley finally has his dream job- professor of Herbology at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 161
Collections: Good Omens Holiday Swap 2019





	Never Tickle a Sleeping Dove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lipsstainedbloodred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipsstainedbloodred/gifts).



> This is my pinch-hit for the Good Omens Holiday Exchange. I wrote it for lipsstainedbloodred. I hope you like it!

Crowley looked up at the imposing castle and felt at home. He’d been gone from Hogwarts for nearly a quarter of a century and it was a quarter of a century too long, in his opinion. He’d been over the moon after the letter from Professor Dumbledore asking him to come back and teach. It had been his dream to work at Hogwarts. He’d have been happy working on the grounds, but now he was going to be a _teacher!_

He took his time walking up the long drive to the castle. He’d been back after his graduation only a handful of times and none of those had felt like he could just take his time to wander. Now he could meander along and admire his childhood home to his heart’s content. 

The great lake was the same as ever. His favorite study tree was still standing, if a little taller. He set a course for it, for old times sake. Maybe, if he were lucky, this could be his spot again. He was going to teach Herbology so he’d be outside most of the time. This would be perfect!

He tossed his bag down a few meters from the tree, nearly jogging up to the ancient oak and wrapping his long spindly arms around it. “How I’ve missed you,” he smiled, fully aware of how ridiculous he looked hugging a tree. It didn’t matter, though. He was far enough from the castle not to be seen. He flopped down beneath the tree at last with a laugh. He was going to love being back here. 

A flash of white in the tree branches caught his attention. He squinted up into the leaves and saw the plumpest dove he’d ever seen. Its feathers were a gleaming white, the sun shining off of them almost blinding. The dove watched him intently, unsure of him. Crowley smiled up at it. 

“Hello! I’m Crowley. I don’t think you should be here.” The dove squawked indignantly. “I’m sorry, but there’s too many predators, what with all the owls. A bird like you should be careful.” The dove gently hopped down to the ground to peer at Crowley more closely. This close the dove’s feathers were almost iridescent. He’d never seen a bird so beautiful. Crowley grinned, his voice soft, “It’d be a shame for anything to happen to such a pretty bird as yourself.”

The dove cooed and ruffled its feathers, pleased by Crowley’s praised. If Crowley wasn’t mistaken, he’d almost say that it was blushing. It studied him a bit more, turning its head this way and that. Crowley continued to smile gently at the dove. He wouldn’t mind making a new friend, here beneath an old one. 

The dove must have found what it was looking for because it let out a friendly chirrup and then leapt into the air.

And turned into a man.

Crowley froze. All thought drowned in his head under a wave of mortification. He was a wizard, was he not? He should have known that a dove this far out in the Scottish Highlands and on Hogwarts grounds no less, could not be just a normal dove. Oh Merlin, what had he said to this man?

“So you think I’m a pretty bird, do you?”

The dove-man smirked down at him beneath a mass of curly white-blond hair. _The same color of the dove’s feathers_ , Crowley thought inanely. He knew he should close his mouth, but all his neurons were working overtime just to keep his heart beating. Could this man not do him the favor of pretending that the last ten minutes never happened? A small chuckle from dove-man gave him his answer. A plump hand swam into his vision.

“I’m Aziraphale Fell,” dove-man introduced himself. Crowley blinked at the offered hand before reaching out to take it. Dove-man’s hand was soft and round clutched in his own boney one. A gentle squeeze was all the warning he got before he was hauled roughly to his feet. “It’s nice to meet you, Crowley.”

Crowley’s brain was still offline, but he was pretty sure he said something vaguely resembling the word “Nyea.”

He couldn’t stop staring at this great white apparition of a man. He was as round as his dove form and tall, almost as tall as Crowley himself. He wasn’t wearing traditional robes, but a cream suit over a tartan waistcoat that made Crowley’s eyes water. A matching tartan bow tie finished off his look . His kind eyes were surrounded by laugh lines, but there was a spark of mischief just there, where Crowley could almost miss it were it not for the fact that this man was currently enjoying his squirming. 

“Crowley,” dove-man, Aziraphale, mused. “Crowley as in A.J. Crowley the new Herbology teacher?”

Crowley realized he was still holding onto Aziraphale’s hand and jerked it back awkwardly. He squeezed his eyes shut behind his sunglasses willing himself to get it together. He was able to pull enough brain cells together to form a coherent sentence. “Yeah.”

“Oh! Then we’ll be working together!” Aziraphale beamed at him. Crowley was suddenly glad of his sunglasses. “I teach Muggle Studies.”

“Muggle Studies. Right.” Damn it, he was starting to sound like an idiot. This man was going to tell Professor Dumbledore that he had no business being a teacher here. He couldn’t even carry on a simple conversation, for Merlin’s sake!

“Well,” Aziraphale said clasping his hands together in front of him. “It was lovely to meet you, Professor Crowley. I must get on, but I hope we’ll see more of each other.”

Aziraphale turned to walk towards the castle, his hands clasped behind his back. Crowley’s heartbeat finally slowed enough that he could breathe again. Aziraphale was nearly out of earshot when he called out. “It was nice to meet you, too!”

Aziraphale turned back to him with a smile and waved. 

Crowley groaned. What a great first impression. He grabbed his bag and trudged after Aziraphale towards the castle and his meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Hopefully, he’d make a better impression there. He racked his brain trying to remember if Dumbledore was an animagus. He didn’t think so, but he wouldn’t be talking to anymore strange birds to be safe.

* * *

Crowley’s new quarters were near the kitchens. He’d been hoping for a space in one of the towers, but Professor Dumbledore had said that these were the only ones available. They weren’t his first choice but they would do. 

They were spacious with a sitting room, a study, and his bedroom. He’d been to Professor Flitwicks’ rooms before, when he’d needed his Head of House in Ravenclaw Tower, and he didn’t remember them being this big. Or maybe it was just the faulty memories of childhood. Crowley didn’t know and didn’t care. With this much space, he had enough room for all of his plants and any more he might acquire in the future. 

His rooms were decked out in tasteful dark blue hues over the castle brickwork. The sofa was a black leather thing that swallowed him whole when he sat on it. He could imagine lazy days spent lying on the plush surface basking in the heat from the giant fireplace. 

Crowley stepped out of his new rooms in the basement just down from the kitchens. He’d finally settled all of his plants into place. He’d also unpacked his clothes, but he was more worried about the plants. He had those that needed more sunlight than his rooms could provide cradled in his arms. He was sure he could find some space for them in the greenhouses. He grinned. _His_ greenhouses. 

He hummed happily to himself, walking unawares down the corridor, until he ran smack into someone else’s shoulder. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my dear!”

A gentle hand grasped his elbow to keep him upright, but all of his precious plants fell to the ground with a crash. Crowley let out a hopeless cry of dismay and quickly knelt to try to salvage what he could. He was elbow deep in dirt before the gentle hands came back and pulled him to his feet. He watched bonelessly as someone waved a wand over the mess and it righted itself. He blinked. 

“There we are,” a familiar voice said. “I do hope I haven’t caused too much damage.”

Crowley finally looked up at the person responsible for the crash and its repair. His dismay turned to embarrassment. It was the dove-man from the Great Lake. Aziraphale. Just what he needed. It wasn’t enough that he’d made a fool of himself out by the lake, now he had to add clumsy to the list. 

“Ngk.”

Aziraphale ignored his sudden ineloquence and looked over his shoulder. “Oh! Are you my new neighbor?” he asked delightedly. Crowley stifled a groan. Of course they had rooms beside each other. The universe never had liked him much. 

“Looks like it, yeah.” he managed. 

Aziraphale smiled brightly. “Well, that’s jolly good! I look forward to working with you, Professor Crowley.”

He walked away before Crowley could reply. Crowley bent to pick up his plants again making sure to keep an eye out for walking clouds.

* * *

Crowley sprinted up the castle steps. He was late. He’d been setting up his plants in Greenhouse Three and lost all track of time. And Professor Dumbledore had asked him to be early to dinner so that he could introduce him to the other teachers. He skidded to a stop just outside of the Great Hall, smoothing a hand through his unruly hair. He glanced down at his robes and groaned. They were absolutely filthy. He waved his wand over his clothes to rid them of most of the dirt. At least he didn’t smell, he thought grimly. He’d kept clear of the fertilizer for just that reason.

When he deemed himself as composed as he was going to get, he took a deep breath and strode into the Great Hall. The night sky reflected on the high ceiling still took his breath away as it had when he was a first year. He’d loved being at Hogwarts. It’d been his home.

“Professor Crowley!” Professor Dumbledore was sitting at the head of a large table on the raised dias where the teachers sat. Teachers usually sat on just one side of the table, to keep an eye on students, Crowley had always suspected, but now there were teachers sat all around it. Professor Dumbledore waved Crowley to a seat near the middle. “I would like to introduce our new Herbology teacher, Professor Anthony Crowley.”

A small smattering of claps accompanied him to his seat. He nodded gratefully at everyone, noticing some of his old teachers. Professor Flitwick offered him a hearty congratulations and Crowley beamed. He’d always had a soft spot for his old Head of House, and Professor Flitwick had helped him enormously in pursuing a career in herbology. 

“A very warm welcome, indeed,” a soft voice said to his right. 

He turned in his seat to find a smirking Professor Fell and stifled a quiet groan. Of course, he’d been sat next to the one person in this whole bloody castle who’d seen him fumble not once, but twice. He chanced a small grin that he was certain couldn’t possibly be construed as a grimace. “Professor Fell. Nice to see you again.”

Fell chuckled and patted his arm. “Aziraphale, dear. All my friends call me that.”

“Are we friends then?” Crowley asked stupidly. He cringed, waiting for Aziraphale to take back his offer. But the man merely smiled. 

“If you want us to be.”

Crowley didn’t know how he wanted to answer that, so he turned to greet old Professor Bugsby, instead.

* * *

September first arrived very quickly. Crowley couldn’t remember summers being this short when he was a kid. He’d finally gotten the greenhouses set up how he wanted them just yesterday and had spent the whole of today fretting. He didn’t doubt that he had the knowledge to teach, but suddenly the thought of standing in front of a room full of adolescent students had his stomach in knots. 

He tried not to lose his lunch as he entered the Great Hall. The House tables were set and ready for the students who had just arrived at Hogsmead Station. He walked past them to the teachers’ table on the raised dias. He searched for his seat and quietly slipped into it. He breathed deeply, keeping his eyes fixed on his empty plate, trying to calm his roiling stomach. Merlin, he hoped he didn’t vomit all over the table. 

With a soft rustling of robes a goblet of wine clinked down on his plate. He followed the hand holding the goblet up cream colored robes into the smiling blue eyes of Professor Fell. He grinned sympathetically at Crowley. “Drink it. It will help.”

Crowley drank the wine gratefully. He’d managed to avoid Aziraphale since that first dinner. A feat in itself, since he was now living beside him. He hadn’t known what to say to the man. Every time he’d seen Aziraphale, Crowley had somehow managed to embarrass himself further, but apparently that hadn’t put Aziraphale off from talking to _him_. He grinned feebly at the man beside him. “Thanks. How’d you know?”

Aziraphale’s smile turned rueful. “I remember the feeling from last year.”

Crowley eyes bulged out of his head. He’d have thought Aziraphale had been teaching for ages. “This is only your second year?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Aziraphale said, pouring himself a goblet of wine. He raised it to his lips and moaned with delight at the taste. Crowley nearly fell out of his chair at the sound. “I’m not as old as I look. Although, to be honest,” he continued, voice lowered so that Crowley had to lean in slightly to hear him, “it’s not much better this year.”

“Oh wonderful,” Crowley drawled, sinking lower in his chair and taking another large gulp of his wine. “That’s just what I needed to hear right now.”

“It’s just start of term nerves, my dear.” Aziraphale patted his arm reassuringly. “Once classes start proper, you’ll be too busy to be nervous. And really, the children aren’t _all_ that bad.”

Crowley caught the slight grimace that quickly slipped across Aziraphale’s face. That was interesting. He grinned. “You say that as if you don’t like children.”

Azirphale did frown, now. “Well, I wasn’t quite sure I would.”

“Why in Merlin’s name did you become a teacher, then?” Crowley blurted out before he could stop himself. He stared wide-eyed at Aziraphale. Would he ever be able to keep his foot out of his mouth around this man?

To his surprise, Aziraphale let out a bark of laughter. He clapped a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “I ask myself that every day. I’ll let you know when I find the answer.” 

Crowley watched the mirth play over Aziraphale’s kind face, amazed. Aziraphale was not like anyone he had ever met before. He wasn’t put off by Crowley’s awkward questions. The Great Hall doors burst open as students poured in, but Crowley barely noticed them. He’d just decided that he was going to make Aziraphale laugh like that again. Every day, if Crowley had anything to say about it.


End file.
